


Love is a Process

by thelonelywriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Kissing, Love, M/M, Masturbation, Sad Dean, sorry - Freeform, the tags for this suck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:00:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4302240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonelywriter/pseuds/thelonelywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean always liked Castiel. Yet, he liked him in a certain way, a way he couldn't quite describe. Castiel had mentioned the profound bond, and Dean always used that as his excuse for the revere he developed in those moments, one where he lay awake with nothing to think of. Old times, the Mark, the Apocalypse, it was all in the past, all things he didn't reflect too much on, as long as he tried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is a Process

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EllaWinchester24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllaWinchester24/gifts).



> Okay, this turned out a little bit different from what you asked for, but still the same I hope you like it! I based it off the song From Afar by Vance Joy, so for optimal reading experience you can listen to that whilst you read the beginning of this fic!! :)

The Death of Dean Winchester.

Dean always liked Castiel. Yet, he liked him in a certain way, a way he couldn't quite describe. Castiel had mentioned the profound bond, and Dean always used that as his excuse for the revere he developed in those moments, one where he lay awake with nothing to think of. Old times, the Mark, the Apocalypse, it was all in the past, all things he didn't reflect too much on, as long as he tried.

When his mind wandered, it wandered to Castiel, and Dean tried to cover that up, even though it was harmless, right? Thinking of his best friend was like thinking of Sammy. But Dean knew deep down, a creeping premonition that no, it wasn't like thinking of Sammy, it was different...

It was like a strange smell you can't describe, a food you can't pinpoint. Still, it was there, and Dean tried his best to keep it hidden. After all, we all fear the unknown.

The unknown became known, however, on a simple hunt, one where Castiel tagged along. They were in a little coffee shop, a café filled with people with dreadlocks who decided that, 'Meat is murder.' It was in that crowded, strange smelling coffee shop when a song came on, one that Dean would never listen to, one alternative, chilled song, but the lyrics caught him, and soon he was listening intently, blocking out all noise.

_Ah that's not the way that friends behave  
Ah that's just not the way that friends behave_

Dean began to brush it off as a stupid love song, and he would definitely deny the fact that, alright, he glanced over to Castiel when the lyrics played. Then, the second verse came on, and he listened more, and he looked more, he looked at Castiel, who wasn't even looking back, not yet.

_You lined me up  
Across the room  
Two falling sparks  
One willing fool  
And I, I always knew  
That I would love you from afar_

Dean blinked, thinking back to when Castiel and him had first met, to when literal sparks flew when they stood across the room, and Castiel fluffed up his wings, presenting them proudly. And Dean would never admit to this either, but the longing glances the two shared, that wasn't the way that friends behave, that was... It was loving from afar. And he was the willing fool, the one who was blind to everything, who denied everything. The two were sparks, and Dean was hopelessly, desperately, loving from afar.

Dean didn't know he was staring, not until he fell into blue eyes that simply stared back at him with that certain something that was different, that wasn't just a regular stare. 

Dean wasn't sure how long he had been staring, all he knew was that Sam was soon snapping him out of his stare, and the song was ending, and Castiel was turning away.

It was then, in that stupid coffee shop with that stupid song, that Dean Winchester decided that Castiel, Angel of the Lord, would be the death of him.

Denial.

There are five stages to grieving, but Dean wasn't as much grieving as he was, well, crushing. He had a crush on Cas, and the five stages of grief are the same as having a crush, and it all begins with denial.

"Stop, stop it Dean," Dean began, looking in the mirror. "It was a stupid song, it was a stupid moment. Remember that really hot girl that you were eyeing? That was what correlated to the song. See, simple?" he sighed, splashing more cold water on his face, blinking and looking up to see water droplets fall back into the sink. He let out a long breath of air, rubbing his hand over his face and flicking away the water, drying his face on a towel. 

Dean was a master of repression and denial, and that's what made things so much worse. When he stood in the mirror, things he barely remembered, things he tried not to remembered, all came up, floating to the top of his brain. Things like the fact that, okay, he had had gay sex more than three times, and yeah, he kissed guys before. But he grit his teeth, stopping himself. Cas wasn't even technically a guy, he was a celestial being. 

Then Dean thought, _'well, if he had chosen a female vessel, would you go for her?'_ Then Dean squeezed his eyes shut, his hands gripping the sink. He... well, he probably would. Because the vessel didn't matter, it was Cas that...

Then, Dean's eyes opened and he gripped the sink tighter because, no, none of this was about Castiel, it wasn't about anything having to do with him. Dean was off his game, and he just needed a bottle of Whiskey to fix it, that was all.

Feelings: 0 Suppression: 1

Anger.

Dean sat in his room, foot tapping anxiously as his headphones played at full blast. He was like a teenager, sitting in his own damn angst, wanting to tear up a house, wanting to do _something._ The denial washed away with the Whiskey, and now all he was left with was anger. Anger at whom? Well, he was still trying to pinpoint it.

He knew that he was angry at himself, he wanted to jump off a bridge because he just couldn't do it. And by it, he meant telling Castiel that okay, he kinda, maybe likes him. But Dean wouldn't do it, not when Castiel had been prancing around with Hannah, or when he had been fucking that stupid bitch April. He shook his head in disgust, and yanked out his headphones, stomping out to where Sam sat on his laptop. "M' going out for a drive," Dean grumbled at Sam, who watched as he ascended the stairs.

"You okay?" Sam asked cautiously, looking up from his laptop. 

"Fine," Dean replied simply before slamming the door behind him.

The day was sunny and warm, quite the opposite of how Dean felt. The sun shone down on the sparkling black Impala, and Dean let out a small sigh at the feeling of sliding into the worn, leather seats. 

Still, as he took it out of park, his anger bubbled inside of him. He tried not to think about Castiel, about his eyes or his cheekbones or his skin...

Then, he white knuckled the steering wheel, clenching his jaw. He was taking a desolate road, a, 'scenic route,' as others called it. He wasn't really watching the scenery though, just trying to shove his anger down to the deepest parts of himself. But, see, his anger liked to float, and it was quite the pesky thing to keep down.

After miles and miles of driving, Dean pulled off the street, parking in a little alcove hidden behind bushes and vines. He let out a long breath of air, parking the car, and turning it off. For a moment he just sat, thinking of that stupid moment in the coffee shop, the one where he had looked over at Cas, where something had snapped and all these friggin' feelings came out. He wanted to deny them, but the denial was, after all, washing away.

Dean was about to get out of the car when a flutter of wings filled the car, and his heart fluttered the same. "Hello Dean," Castiel said, sitting next to him. All Dean could think was, _'perfect, fucking perfect timing, Cas.'_

Dean was too tired to jump, only to sigh and look over to Cas. "Hey Cas," he replied dully. Castiel looked over at him with an intensity that Dean couldn't stand, and Dean let out an aggravated sigh. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he spat out, and Castiel gave him his cute, little, puppy dog head tilt that made Dean's heart twinge in his chest.

"Like what?" Castiel inquired, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Like I'm about to explode or some shit," Dean grumbled. Castiel sighed, gaze still set of Dean.

"I can sense intense anger coming from you Dean, and I came here because I was worried. The Mark was removed only weeks ago, and I'm just worried that there will be some adverse effects," Castiel explained, and Dean could hear the worry tinting his voice. Dean pursed his lips, rolling up his sleeve and displaying to Cas where the Mark once was. Castiel reached out to touch it, and he felt his skin tingling when Cas touch him lightly with his fingertips. 

Castiel brushed his thumb over where it once was, and a shiver escaped Dean. Castiel looked up at him with a worried expression. "Does it hurt?" he asked urgently, and Dean shook his head.

"No, no, it's just the chills," Dean replied, clearing his throat. Castiel glanced up at him, then pulled away, letting Dean roll his sleeve back up.

As he was rolling his sleeve back up, he thought of what Cas had said, and furrowed his eyebrows. "Why'd you come here again?" he asked thoughtfully, completely forgetting Castiel's previous words, and Cas actually blushed a bit.

"I just, I wanted to check up on you is all," he said quietly, and then Dean's heart did a flip in his chest. It was a normal thing, something totally ordinary, but the way Castiel blushed, the way he went quiet, Dean hoped it all meant something to him or to Cas.

After a tense silence in the Impala, Castiel looked down. "I better go then. But I'll keep watching over you, I'll check in with you," he said softly, and before Dean could say a word, before he could tell Castiel that he kinda liked him, like, a lot, Cas was gone, and Dean was left alone, just as angry as when he began this little trip. He clenched his jaw, letting out a grunt as he hit the steering wheel with his palms, and dropped down his head. His feelings were destroying him, and that was something he wasn't quite used to.

Feelings: 1 Suppression: 1

Bargaining.

"Just talk to him, tell him what you feel, take it from there," Dean encouraged himself quietly in the shower. He sighed, rinsing shampoo from his hair. "You can tell him straight out Dean, just do it." Dean shut his eyes, letting the warm water fall over him. He just had to relax, he just had to not think about Castiel and his perfect face, his gorgeous eyes, his body that was well concealed under that baggy trench coat that Dean just wanted to rip off.

Then, Dean realized that he was starting to fantasize, that his dick was growing hard and heavy between his legs. He debated whether jacking off to the thought of his best friend was a good idea or not. He decided it wasn't. But he did it anyways. He gave it a few soap slick strokes until he was fully hard, the image of Castiel swimming through his mind.

He started off slow, teasing and hesitant because he couldn't stop thinking about this whole situation. Maybe he could do this, masturbate in the shower to the thought of Castiel. Then, he wouldn't have to tell Cas how he felt, how he imagined his lips around his cock, how he wanted to touch him, to thank him for things that he had done for Dean. 

Dean's hand sped up as he bit his lip, holding back a moan, his body thrumming with energy. He let his head loll back, the water hitting his neck and open mouth, indulging in the sensations, thinking of Cas in all different ways, then thinking of his face, just his face. And he felt himself nearing a cresting pleasure as a soft, unheard, 'Cas,' escaped his lips, his eyes shutting tight as he let out a breath, coming all over the shower walls. 

Dean panted, leaning against the shower wall, his legs tense and numb beneath him. He decided then that, alright, he'd let himself think of Cas when he got off, but only if he had the intentions of telling Cas the truth. Did that even make sense?

Feelings: 1.5 Suppression: 2

Depression.

Dean had no idea what was happening to him at this point. What he did know, was that this was exactly how he felt when he had crushed on girls, on boys, on anyone in high school or junior high. And to his recollection, it sucked, and it all ended in lonely dances and sadness. Dean was now at the sadness point.

He still went on hunts, he still got out of the bunker, but his heart began to weigh heavy in his chest. He thought of all the reasons it couldn't work out, he thought of all the reasons he couldn't get the goddam words out of his mouth, and most importantly, he thought of Castiel. He thought of him, just him, he thought of his hair, how dark it was, how it always looked messy. He imagined his lips against his, soft and gentle, or furious and heartfelt. There was his skin, all his little ministrations that Dean noticed over the years. 

Yet all of it, all of that was put through the presses, denied, angered, bargained. It was mushy and gross, and it followed Dean around like a sticky residue. But Dean was good at hiding it, hiding the fact that his heart was heavy like a wet T-shirt. Sam didn't notice, even Cas didn't seem to notice when they saw each other. But Dean found the longing glances intensifying, the lingering touches a little more than lingering now. He didn't know if it was him or Cas, however, who was controlling it.

Then one day, after Castiel had left the bunker, but not before those goddam glances and stares, Dean decided, _'you know what? Fuck this,_ and he got in the Impala, telling Sam that he'd be out grabbing some beer, but that was a lie. He drove and drove until he reached the same grassy alcove, and he put the car in park, and got out.

Feelings: 3.5 Suppression: 2

Acceptance.

Dean wasn't quite sure if he was nervous, terrified, or filled with adrenaline. He decide that it was all three.

His body thrummed with mixed feelings as he got out, and he took a deep breath. Pacing, wondering how to word it. He was in the middle of rubbing a hand over his face when he turned around, met with sight of Castiel. Dean jumped, and his heart did too. He leaned back against the Impala, huffing a breath of laughter. "Impeccable timing," he muttered to himself. 

Then, Dean noticed that Castiel was stepping closer and closer until they were inches away. And he was... smiling. Dean furrowed his eyebrows, his heart flipping. "W- what are you doing?" he stammered. Castiel only smiled wider.

"Finalizing your acceptance," Castiel replied calmly.

"What the hell does-?" But then Castiel was shutting Dean up, kissing him softly, firmly, in a sweet sort of way that was better than any of Dean's stupid fantasies. Dean could barely breath as he let out a noise of muffled shock against Castiel's lips, his body tingling like never before. He could feel the warmth of Castiel beneath his trench coat and suit, and it drove him wild. 

Then, the too-quick kiss was over, no tongue, no nothing, just the sweet meeting of lips that, surprisingly, satisfied Dean for the moment. When Cas pulled away he looked Dean deep in the eye, and Dean just opened his mouth in shock. "You- how'd you know?" Dean croaked out, and Castiel smiled.

"It's very obvious Dean. I pieced your soul together, I can see it when others can't. I just waited until you actually stopped acting like a child about it and accepted it," he explained, and Dean just stood there, still shocked.

"You... feel the same way?" he asked with trepidation. Castiel surged forward, pressing him against the car as their lips met. 

This time, Castiel slid his tongue delicately across Dean's lower lip, delving into Dean's mouth with a certain heat that Dean couldn't describe. And Castiel tasted like nothing Dean had ever tasted, it was inexplicably sweet, amazing in more ways than one. And Dean had to keep a smile hidden when he remembered Cas' kiss with Meg, how he had said that he, 'learned it from the pizza man,' and _damn,_ Cas had learned a lot from just one tape because his tongue was maneuvering through Dean's mouth in a way that had Dean melting. Dean pulled Castiel's lip into his teeth nibbling on it before letting it go. Cas pulled away with a sly smile, looking down at Dean. "Is that enough to answer your question?"

Feelings: 10+ Suppression: 0

**Author's Note:**

> So tell me what you guys thought!! It wasn't my best work because there wasn't much dialogue or other stuff, it was mostly just thoughts, but let me know if you liked it :)


End file.
